Life is hard for a Ghostbuster. You get calls at all hours of the day, you are constantly getting slimed by spirits, and you have to deal with that pencil-necked clod, Walter Peck. Even worse, people complain when you accidentally rearrange their dining room during a job. Do they actually think that a phantasm will just jump into a trap?

At least we don’t have to compensate the city for the damage that we cause. It is all straight profit, which goes toward hookers and booze. Alright, in actuality, the money funds our operation and allows us to purchase upgrades for our existing weapons. It really is a shame. We could have one hell of a night in the red-light district.

So why do I do it? Why do I risk my sanity chasing ghouls and ghosts? I think you know the answer. Because busting makes me feel good.

When I first walked into the revamped firehouse, I really didn’t know what to expect. I had seen the television reports and read the newspaper stories, but surely no amount of media coverage could prepare me for such an odd job.

Right off the bat, I was greeted by a portrait of the villainous Vigo, the fiend who attempted to inhabit Dana Barrett’s infant son, Oscar. For some strange reason, the guys like to keep it in the lobby near Janine’s desk. It can actually speak. Uber creepy.

Since I was the new guy, I got dubbed the guinea pig. If there was a potentially harmful piece of equipment that needed to be tested, it got strapped to my back. Fair enough. I was the greenhorn. The “Rookie” name tag was a bit humbling though.

First thing on the agenda was orientation with the tech guys, Dr. Stantz and Dr. Spengler. They eat this paranormal stuff up. If there is a stray spook wreaking havoc, those two are probably at the scene, spouting off spectral jargon.

Dr. Venkman was also present, but he was too busy being a wise-ass to offer any helpful advice.

I didn’t meet Winston, the fourth ‘buster, until later in the evening. He has the least eccentric personality. Unlike the others, he is not a scientist, but simply a normal guy trying to make a living. Though, don’t underestimate the Zed man. He is as sharp as a tack.

Mere moments after I slipped on a Proton Pack, a blue energy pulse swept through the room. Come to find out, it emanated from the Gozer exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. Things were about to get crazy.

All of sudden, we heard glass shatter downstairs. Slimer had escaped his prison, and was loose in the station. Ray, Egon and myself rushed to the basement, while Peter stayed upstairs and played the Q*bert arcade cabinet. If you ask me, it was kind of a dick move, but I probably would have done the same in his position.

When we got downstairs, Slimer was fixated on the containment unit, which is where all of the captured ghosts are kept. A quick shot from my Proton Pack only exacerbated the predicament, as yet another, much fatter revenant escaped into the basement. Ray assuaged my concern, since he was the one who told me to take aim. I still maintain that my aim was impeccable. There must have been a slight breeze in the room, or something.

Not long after, we caught up to apparitions, which provided me the opportunity to set things straight. I readied my Proton Pack. I could feel the power surging through my muscular hands. Ahem.

The Proton Pack is used to wear ghosts down. Tip for future cadets: stay in shape. It is not easy to haul around a 100-pound pack. I am not saying that you have to bulk up on steroids, but be aware that you will have to carry some heavy equipment.

Once a spirit has been sufficiently weakened, we nab it with the capture stream and pull it toward an open trap. Even in this state, the ghost will continue to thrash about, so I usually just slam it against something to daze it. Ghosts don’t like being pent up and will struggle until the very end.

Initially, I had some trouble keeping targets in the trap beam. The problem was that I was applying too much counteractive force. With enough practice though, it became second nature. Now, I am a master wrangler. The guys even call me “Trap Star.” OK, so that is a total lie, but the name does have a nice ring to it. I doubt I could convince Ray to put it on a suit though.

We were able to capture the second ghost, but Slimer managed to escape to his old haunt, the Sedgewick Hotel.

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